Insane or Vengeful, Crazy or Alone -Chapter 1-
by KatOfSpace
Summary: Rated T for gore in future chapters. Jake goes crazy after witnessing the murder of his grandmother, sent to a prison and meets an unlikely friend who not only helps him cope with the loss of his family, but becomes a close friend willing to risk it all to help the deranged teenager. Jake is about 17-18ish while Dirk is a bit older, around 25-28ish.


It was such a beautiful day, the sun was shining bright on his and his grandmother's new home, a fresh coat of paint applied by yours truely, it looked as good as new.

Jake English is his name and he's excited to start his new life here in this quaint little town, he don't remember the name of the city, just where the groceory was and the school he was to attend next month. Speaking of the grocery he better head out, running low on milk and bread, plus he would get his dear grandmother something, perhaps some candy? She did always love sweets! Regardless he bounded down the stairs, finding his deer granny sitting on the couch, her hands folded as she watched a cooking show. Jake chuckles and announces his arrival, letting her know he would be back soon. She nodded and Jake headed out the front door, shutting it behind him and locking it as he trotted down the steps, walking around back to snatch up his bike. The store was only a few blocks down the road, why drive when you can work your muscles on an adventerous bike ride?

He started down the road, humming to himself as he goes, avoiding people walking and the occasional pothole, looking around and admireing at all the interesting buildings and people, trying to remember where the stores are. Oh! A fabric shop, granny would surely love to go in there and get some things! He himself had no interest in sewing, as far as he was concerned he had better things to do! Like practice with his two pistols he has had since he could remember. The gun store was a block closer then the foodstore, infact. He waved as he passed it up, they had only been moved in for about two weeks but the people at that particular bulding know him very well.  
They call him One-Shot English. He never missd.

Jake stopped in front of the small general store, walking in and grabbing a basket, wondering down isles until he found the things he needed, grabbing himself a candy bar and his grandmother a beautiful little hairpin he had seen.  
He lay the things down on the counter for the young lady to scan them, humming to himself and looking up at a rather odd painting, it looked like some sort of horse, the picture itself wasn't all that grand, but the frame it was mounted in was very nice.

He was snapped back to reality when the lady cleared her throat, Jake turning back to her with a grin.  
"Oh! Oh dear i'm sorry, I spaced out." He glanced up at the moniter and took out a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet, taking his change and sticking the bills back inside, dropping his change in an orphanage fund-raiser.  
He went outside and mounted his bike, starting back the road with his bag of goodies on his right handlebar, starting to hum as he went, his home in his sights. He pulled into the driveway and parked his bike in the garage, taking the bag and making his way to the front porch, taking out his key before noticing the door was cracked open slightly.

Didn't he lock that on the way out?

He shrugged it off, maybe his grandmother came outside and left it open, she could be so forgetful after all! He pushed the door open and froze, eyeing the man walking around in his kitchen, a large black bag in his hands. He shut the door quietly, not all the way as to not make noise and looked over to the mantle where he kept one of his guns. It was gone. Granny never touched his guns.  
Jake lowered himself, setting the bag down as he crept to the kitchen, peeking around the corner as his eyes caught his grandmother, sitting in the chair, watching the man with a look of terror in her old features. It took everything Jake had no to jump out and scream, but he froze as the man took out his favorite pistol, aiming it at your grandmother.

Oh good lord please no.

He froze, muscles refusing to move as emerald eyes widened as the man pulled the trigger, a small line of red catching his eye. He slumped in the corner much like the body of his guardian slumped in the chair, Jake clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out. The man grabbed a few more things before walking right past Jake, he guessed he was hidden in the darkness of the room or the man simply was in too big of a rush. He watched the man as he took his gun with him, shutting the door like nothing happened.

Jake sat there, stunned in fear and horror. He curled his knees up to his chest and sobbed, unable to look up at the shell of his grandmother as he heard a stedy drip start to ring in his ears.

Jake slammed his palms down against the grey table, his eyes blazing with anger.  
"What do you friggen mean its not enough evidence?! I saw him! I watched him break into my home and kill her! What more do you need?!" The investigator who had been working on your grandmother's murder case shook his head, short grey hair moving slightly. "We can't warrent an arrest becuase you said you saw him, he didn't have anything at his home relating to the crime, not your stolen gun, not anything he supposedly stole." he said calmly, hands lacing on the table.

"This is rediculous!"

"Perhaps you are mistaken-"

Jake slammed his fists into the metal table, gritting his teeth. "No, I could never forget that face! I watched him as he pulled that cursed trigger! I watched him take our things and run off like a freaking coward!" This was so very very bad, after all the time it took to find this guy, they can't even arrest him because he got rid of all the evidence.  
Jake slumped back into his chair, thredding his fingers into his hair as he hung his head and groaned, reisting the urge to sob. There was no way he was going to cry in front of this man. After all this time, all this work...

"I guess i'll take my leave then." Jake muttered, standing up on legs that felt too weak to support him, knees that thretened to buckle. He left without another word, pushing the glass door open and exiting the police station, making his way home on foot.

_'This isin't over.'_ Jake thought to himself. _'Not by a long shot.'_  
_

Jake crept around the side of the building, old and uncared for, as he neared the open side window. He had been grinning like a madman all day, stroking the single gun on his right hip as he had neared the home. Jake peeked inside, a single lamp was on, otherwise it was silent. He slipped inside the window, creeping quickly to the second floor, he knew the layout of the home, and he knew this man had a routine, one he had memorized in his days of spying.

He took the steps slowly, not making a sound. His heartbeat was slowing and his breath was coming slower. He saw the bedroom door was cracked, peeking inside he saw the man was already in bed, the moonlight from his bedside window shining on his form. Jake felt his stomach churn and his gut clench.

Breathe.

He slowly pushed open the door, his hands gripping the rough rope that he clutched to his chest as he heard the light snoring of the sleeping man not ten feet from him. The same man that took his only family. The same man who stole his gun and used it against him in the most horrible way. His eyes darted to a flash of reflected light, spotting said gun on the bedside table. Jake smirked. He made his way over to the foot of the bed, tieing his feet like they taught him in boyscouts, then he moved up to his torso, grabbing his hands and gently moving them up, tieing each wrist to one end of the headboard. His face was begining to hurt from the cheshire cat smile he was doning.

His fingers drug through the man's hair, slowly lifting his head to tie the gag into his mouth. As much as he wanted to hear this fucker scream, he wanted to have his fun. He took his knife and started to cut clothes off, starting with his shirt. By the time he had it removed the man was awake, screaming and bucking his body up in an attempt to get away. Jake shifted, cutting off his pants and tossing them on the floor, he drug his sharpened blade across disgusting skin, splitting it as red pooled down his leg, staining the bed. The man screamed of course, but the gag kept it from getting too loud. He had been studying the human body, where vital arteries are, when to cut to make it slow and painful. He moved to his arms, dragging the silver and black blade down and across his arms, keeping them shallow so he didn't bleed out. He didn't want his fun to end too soon. He repeated this process with the other arm, the man becoming desprite now, pulling on his restraints with such force Jake saw blood pooling around them. He cooed softly in amusement, resting the knife over his groin.

"I should cut off your bloody dick and shove it down your throat." His voice held something in it now, a tone he had never used in the past. It sounded so calm and almost friendly, but the hidden undertone of madness flickered both in the words he spoke and in his green eyes that roamed over the man's bloodied body, licking his lips as he trailed the knife's blade up his boxers, tearing and ripping them off as they joined the rest of the clothig on the floor. He drug the blunt end of the knife up the man's cock, reviling in the way he flinched back, screaming louder then ever.  
It took a few more hours of slow cuttings and sadistic talking to the man before Jake felt like his end was nearing, the way he faught less and screamed quieter. Jake figured he should end this.

"Oh! And you probably don't even know who I am." Jake chuckled, a dark and almost demonic sound. "My name is Jake English, grandson of that lovely old lady you murdered a few weeks back." Jake shook his head almost sadly. "As fun as this endever has been, i'm afraid its time to end our little game." He picked his gun off the bedside table. "I'll be taking this back, if you don't mind." He licked his lips, checking and seeing that it was still fully loaded with six bullets. "Oh why thank you." He aimed at his right arm, fireing the gun and allerting everyone to his little fiasco. The man screamed and tried to grip his arm, Jake's eyes watched as he squirmed. He shot his other arm and both his legs, unloading all but one bullet into his stomach, letting him sit there in a bloody puddle that used to be a bed.

"You fucked with the wrong family."

Jake pulled the trigger and ended the man's life, looking out the window as he heard sirens, dropping his guns on the floor to join the emply shells, walking outside to sit on the front porch, tossing his knife around as he awaited for the police, singing softly to himself. 

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."

He saw the lights reflecting off the buldings.

"You make me happy, when skies are grey..."

At least three or four cars were heading right for this street, Jake looked down at his hands, stained red with the man's blood.

"Y-You'll never know deer..."

He felt tears falling down his tanned cheeks.

"How much I love you..."

He heard men getting out of their cruisers and he stood, dropping his knife and raising his hands over his head.

"So please don't take -"

"Get on the ground now!" he heard someone yell. His face hurt from the grin on his face that accompinied the tears.

"My sunshine away..."


End file.
